Downpour
by GranBoy
Summary: Steve Rodgers finds a part time job with an eccentric 'herbalist'. SteveRodgers/OFC. Rated M for later chapters. Enjoy
1. I

© Marvel

**Downpour **

- CHAPTER I -

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Tucked away in the depths of New York was a little house so enchantingly out of place one could not walk past without glancing up. Stained glass windows were matched with dainty flower boxes, filled to the brim with strange little plants with strange little leaves. They danced and swayed to the perpetual tune of the ensemble of wind chimes stationed around the house. The door was painted a deep green with an obnoxious knocker that guarded the home. Even in the house's glory, there seemed to be a tint of age and neglect that powdered the edges.

A man known commonly around New York as Dr. Bruce Banner hopped up the steps of the mismatched house and rapped sharply three times, only entering when a voice from the other side granted permission.

He was greeted by the faint smell of vanilla and something familiar but he couldn't put his finger on it at that moment. Banner cleared his throat and took in the room before him; it's dark wood floors and plush red furniture added to the welcoming atmosphere. Most of the space on the walls was filled with shelves holding ragged old books or dusty jars filled with plant leaves and other miscellaneous items. The fireplace always brewed a warm fire in it's belly and carried bundles of dried herbs upon it's shoulders.

From the kitchen a slender woman appeared, tall and elegant yet she draped herself in a baggy jumper and a pair of dark shorts well past their prime. Her hair was a stark contrast to her attire; it was sleek and neatly cut falling just above her shoulders. Her fringe fell just above her bored grey eyes which skimmed through the book she held out in front of her body, "Dr. Banner," She started, shutting the book loudly. "How are you?" She asked, placing the book on her desk next to the skull which had an assortment of writing utensils sticking out of the eye sockets.

"Good, very good. How's things with you Amelia?" Bruce asked timidly, approaching the desk.

"Oh well, you know," Amelia turned to the shelves and ran a long digit along the spines, "Life's still as dull as ever." She paused, pulling out a book from the shelf. "I have your order ready, Dr. Banner." Bruce nodded and watched as she glided into the next room. Amelia returned momentarily with a little tub of clear balm. She placed it on the desk and fingered quickly through the pages of the book as though she had done so many times before. "This book details various techniques one can use to meditate in order to lower stress, anxiety, _rage_." She waved her hand absentmindedly. "The balm has relaxing properties. Apply it to your temples if you feel the need. " Amelia bookmarked the page with a slip of green patterned paper from her drawer. "Keep the balm and return the book in a month. I'll review your process then." Banner nodded, grabbing his goods and passing her a few notes. Amelia counted them quickly and nodded. "Good luck Dr. Banner."

"You too Amelia." He left.

Amelia Montague considered herself to be a herbalist of sorts. She created herbal cures to suit her customer's needs. Many criticized her, believing that her 'cures' were only placebos. However, there was little she could do to care for Amelia was an ignorant creature. She only paid attention to those who mattered and according to her, people of such a standing were few and far between. Amelia found most people extraordinarily boring and they strained her fragile nerves.

Flopping down on the sofa she glanced up at the clock. _Two thirty_. She cracked the joints in her legs and shot out of the door heading towards the little café that served her favourite jam tarts and brewed the best tea.

She closed her eyes as the tiny bell jingled upon her entrance. The young woman behind the counter smiled and a few customers glanced up but then quickly returned to their business.

"Amelia, you look positively ecstatic." The lady behind the counter laughed at Amelia's scoff.

"Please Sarah, save your shallow humour for those who actually care for it."

"Strawberry tart and tea then?"

"Of course. What else would I be here for?" Amelia knitted her brows together in annoyance and drummed her fingers along the counter top. Sarah laughed. The bell jingled again as another customer entered. He was tall, broad shouldered and Amelia couldn't help but notice the puppyish smile gracing his features. He approached the counter. Amelia gave a curt nod.

"Hi." He breathed, placing his hands on the counter. Amelia rolled up her sleeves and leaned against the counter waiting rather impatiently.

"Oh my God! Steve! Hi!" Sarah squawked from behind her. Steve raised a hand.

"Hello Sarah."

"I haven't seen you since Stark's function. How've you been?"

"Good I suppose. How is everything with you and Ben?" He asked politely. Sarah blushed and showed him her hand.

"He proposed!"

"Oh wow, congratulations!"

Amelia sighed and leaned over the counter. "Sarah, I'm not paying you to boast about your up and coming marriage to that poor excuse for a man." She clapped her hands. "Chop! Chop!"

Sarah fanned her off, picking up on the - _well_- hidden playfulness of her tone. Steve chuckled lightly. "Oh Steve, this is Amelia by the way. An old friend of mine." They shook hands. "I almost forgot! Steve what can I get you?" Amelia mentally slapped Sarah for being such a terrible waitress.

"A coffee please." Sarah nodded and disappeared. "So, how do you know Sarah?" He asked quietly, as if he was afraid to break the hushed murmur of the café.

"A long time client of mine." Amelia took a seat at a free table and motioned for Steve to sit opposite.

"Client? What do you do? - If you don't mind me asking ma'am."

_Ma'am? That was new. _Amelia hesitated. "I'm a herbalist, I suppose. Make natural cures for people. It's something my mother was passionate about so I have a duty to carry it on." She finished with a sigh, relieved when Sarah arrived with their orders. "About time." Amelia mumbled. Sarah rolled her eyes and went back to her job. "What about you?"

"Well I'm sort of between jobs. Just out of the army." He looked into his coffee. _It's not a total lie…_

"Huh. How 'bout that. I would have pegged you as a builder or a boxer. Something like that." Amelia scanned quickly over his face and upper body. She then only noticed his posture. _Straight as a dye_. It screamed 'army-man'.

Steve smiled shyly at her comment and drank his coffee. Amelia split her tart down the middle and watched the deep red ooze cave in. She quartered it and paused for a moment, her fork hovering over the snack. "Steve," She began, her thundercloud eyes flicking towards him. "Would you care for a piece?" He opened his mouth to decline but she had already placed a sliver on a napkin and slid it towards him. He smiled.

"Thank you.

They chatted quietly until the remains of their drinks had cooled. Amelia leaned in and listened intently to Steve who had a charm about him that counteracted his slight social awkwardness. There was something about the way he spoke and how his hands slightly moved as he told a story, almost like he was restricted in some way. Amelia admired his hands; they were strong, calloused from hard work yet gentle in their motions. He was right handed, she noted the large bump on his middle finger told her he held a pen or a pencil often, perhaps he was a writer or an artist. His gaze always fell low, Amelia guessed he was self-conscious , not that she could understand why; he was built like a battleship. No one would mess with him.

They stood up to leave and paid. Steve held the door open for her like a gentleman. They stopped outside the café. Amelia placed a hand lightly on his arm. "Steve, if you ever need a part-time job, feel free to lend me a hand. I'd pay you a reasonable wage, of course." Steve nodded.

"I would really appreciate that ma'am."

They exchanged details and Amelia gave him rather vague directions which she had to clarify. They parted ways just as rain clouds crawled into the sky. Amelia quickened her pace, not wanting to get caught in the downpour.

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**Thank you for reading! Don't be afraid to let me know what you think! I love talking to you guys! **

**xxx**


	2. II

**A quick thank you to everyone who added this story to their alerts/favourites or reviewed. I wasn't expecting any sort of response from the first chapter. **

CHAPTER II

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The rain hadn't stopped since the day Steve and Amelia parted. Amelia stood on her porch, arms folded, glaring at nothing. She glared when she was deep in thought which made many uncomfortable, especially on public transport. The wind chimes tinkled softly and then stopped abruptly, apart from one, which continued on before the rest joined it a few minutes later. Amelia raised her fingertips to her lips and was drawn out of her thoughts. She looked carefully at the chime, analysing it, waiting for it change. It didn't.

Steve hopped up the steps. "Good morning." he chirped. His smile faltered when Amelia didn't look at him. Her gaze was transfixed on that one chime. "Amelia, is every-"

"Steve," She interrupted, still fixed on the chime. "Does something seem off to you?" Steve followed her gaze, eyebrows drawing up in confusion.

"I don't - what is it?"

Amelia closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Never mind. Please come in." She held her hand out towards the door and followed Steve in, taking one last glance at the chime.

Amelia brought Steve into the kitchen and motioned for him to sit at the table. She handed him the pestle and mortar from the windowsill and retrieved a few bunches of dried lavender from the fireplace. "Can you grind these for me? I need them ground into a rough powder - think sand mixed with little pebbles." Steve nodded. As menial as these task were, they proved to be a great distraction from his secret life within SHIELD. He enjoyed the mundane, probably more than he should admit.

Amelia padded into the living room, picking a book about rare plants from the rainforest. Oh how she wished they grew in her back garden. She flicked through, memorizing the medical properties of some of the plants and wondered was there anyway she could obtain such treasures. The repetition of the grinder acted as a white noise, allowing Amelia to concentrate on her thoughts.

Not long after, the grinding stopped. Steve poked his head around the archway and cleared his throat to get her attention. Amelia raised her brows as she turned to him. "I'm finished ma'am."

Amelia tried to restrain her shock. She had definitely thought she had given him enough work to keep him busy for longer than ten minutes. "Really?" Amelia pushed herself away from her work and followed Steve into the kitchen. Surely enough the ground lavender sat in a neat pile on the table. She asked him to place it into an empty jar as she thought of something else he could do. "There are a few boxes of dirty jars in the storage room over there. Could I ask you to fetch them and wash them out?"

"Yeah sure." He strode towards the door as Amelia leaned over the desk.

"Oh. Be careful. They're quite heavy. I don't need you putting your back out."

Steve couldn't help but grin.

Amelia scribbled a few quick notes as she flicked through another book. Steve walked past her, easily carrying two boxes at a time. Amelia could hardly manage one. "Alright, I'm impressed." She admitted when Steve proudly walked past, not even breaking a sweat. "Are you on steroids or something?" Amelia asked somewhat seriously.

"Uh, no. I'm not." Steve said, wondering if the super solider serum counted.

Both busied themselves with their respective tasks. After a while, someone knocked on the front door. Amelia answered. "Mrs. Mitchell. It's lovely to see you."

"And you, dear. How are things?"

"Same old, same old." Amelia shrugged. "I hope you're keeping well."

"When you're as old as I am Amelia, you soon realize that if you're not doing well, you're probably dead." Amelia laughed a whole-heartedly. She loved her humour.

Amelia offered her a seat by the fire which she graciously took. "Terrible weather, isn't it? Good thing you have this lovely fire." Mrs. Mitchell removed her jacket and gloves. Her arms and hands were tormented with painful rashes and itched and bled until she could bear it no more. Amelia pulled a stool beside her and inspected her hands, turning them gently and touching the rash lightly.

"Steve," Amelia called. He walked in, rubbing his hands on his trousers. "Could you fetch me the jar of lotion labelled 'Mrs. Mitchell'? It should be sitting on the shelf above the table." Steve disappeared for a moment and returned, jar in hand.

"Oh Amelia!" Mrs. Mitchell cooed. "Who is this lovely young man?"

Steve introduced himself. "Steve Rodgers ma'am."

"My assistant." Amelia hummed, not really paying much attention to anything else other than the old lady's arms. Steve handed her the lotion.

"Assistant? Is that all? I thought you had found yourself a man." Mrs. Mitchell said disappointedly. Amelia grinned and Steve looked away embarrassed.

"Not quite. However I'm sure Steve could pull in someone much more suitable than me. I'm not exactly marriage material." Amelia reverberated the words of her parents with a sigh. She applied the lotion gently.

"Don't say that Amelia. I'm sure any guy would be lucky to have a dame like you." Mrs. Mitchell nodded with Steve in agreement. Amelia threw him a look that suggested she thought otherwise.

"There's someone out there for everyone." Mrs. Mitchell prophesized. Amelia tried her hardest to stop her eyebrows drawing together in annoyance, she really did. But the old woman didn't notice. She continued her conversation with Steve, talking about marriage and love. Cringing, Amelia stood up and scribbled a short, illegible paragraph in a notebook. She sat at her desk, watching the two romantics talk about something Amelia didn't concern herself with. Steve sat down beside Mrs. Mitchell and they spoke intently. She leaned in and placed a hand on his knee. The woman looked genuinely concerned. Once their heart to heart had finished, Mrs. Mitchell got up and left after collecting her jar and patting a bored Amelia on the head. Steve sat at the fire, his head resting in his fists. Amelia leaned back and watched him, her boredom slowly drifting away. It amazed her how someone so _huge_ could be so sensitive.

She stood up and sat beside him, joining him as he stared into the fire. "What's wrong?" Amelia asked gently, placing her hand on his back. He shook his head.

"Just thinking about some friends I used to know. They… died a few years back."

"I'm sorry to hear that Steve." He fiddled with his hands and bit his lip, hesitating. Steve looked at her.

"Have you ever lost anyone?" Amelia shrugged and nodded.

"I've lost people. Very little of which meant anything to me. I've never had good friends or close family members so I can't empathize with you." Steve wasn't sure what was worse; the fact that she's been experience death like him or that she's never been close to anyone. It seemed like Amelia's revelation allowed him to understand her a little better, allowed him to make sense of her _unique _personality. "Anyway, I'm going to make tea. You fancy a cup?"

* * *

**Things are slowly progressing, I suppose. Sorry for the shortness of the chapters, but I just feel as though they're coming to a natural end themselves. Don't worry, this story will pick up in the coming chapters, I promise.**

**xxx**


	3. III

-CHAPTER III-

Steve had been working with Amelia for just over a month, working every other day when it suited him. Amelia had appreciated his help and more importantly, his company. For nearly five years she had lived alone, her only visitors being her customers and sometimes Sarah - but she was only allowed in when she didn't wear the perfume that smelt like the incense at mass. Amelia claimed it disrupted the delicate atmosphere of her home; it reminded her too much of her youth when her father - who was a devout Catholic - forced her to attend the Sunday celebrations. But she didn't tell Sarah that.

Today, Sarah wore a satisfactory floral perfume therefore admission into Amelia's humble abode was granted.

"So, I hear Steve's been helping you. How's that working out?" Sarah asked, grasping the mug of tea tightly. Amelia reclined back in the armchair, crossing her legs and resting her head in her hand.

"He's very industrious. Sometimes I don't have enough work to give him but, he always finds something to do." Amelia scratched her arm. "He painted the outside of my house."

"I noticed. A very good job too." Amelia nodded in agreement.

"In no less than a day, of course. I often wonder were he gets his energy from…" She trailed off averting her gaze to the fireplace. Sarah tucked a blonde lock behind her ear.

"Well, I was talking to him the other day and I think he really enjoys working for you."

Amelia threw her hands out as though Sarah had said the most obvious statement that could be formed with the English language. "Of course he does - why would he not?"

"I'm sure I could think of a few reasons. How long have you got?" Sarah tilted her head teasingly. Amelia linked her fingers together and grinned.

"Oh!" Amelia sat up quickly, rushing into the kitchen. "Sarah, I want you to try these. Steve and I made them yesterday - they're little candies. Try one." She popped the lid off the jar and shook it at Sarah. Hesitantly, she reached in, turning the tiny crimson drop between her fingers. She dropped it into her mouth and savoured it.

"These are lovely!" She exclaimed, a little too surprised for Amelia's liking. "Is that orange and cranberry." Amelia nodded, throwing one into her own mouth. "Where _is _Steve today?"

"He came by earlier and informed me that he had 'personal matters' to attend to and that he wouldn't be able to come in for a week at the most."

Sarah furrowed her brows. "'Personal matters'? What does that even mean?"

"I never asked. It doesn't concern me." Amelia paused and then added quickly, "Or you for that matter."

"I know, but I've never heard one word mentioned about Steve regarding his personal life. Even Ben knows nothing and they've been friends for a while. Has he ever mentioned anything to you? Family? Girlfriend? Anything?" Amelia groaned.

"I'm sure if Steve really wanted us to know he'd tell us." Amelia pushed the information regarding Steve's friends into the back of her mind. "You shouldn't pry into other's lives."

"I'm not prying," Sarah defended, chewing the candy. "I'm taking a healthy interest." Amelia rolled her eyes and stood up, dragging her feet to her desk. She drummed her fingers on the book Dr. Banner had returned yesterday. She was surprised to find out that Banner and Steve knew each other and they seemed surprised that they both knew Amelia. As he fingers tapped out a repetitive beat, she wondered what their common link was, other than her.

"Sarah," Amelia started after a pregnant pause. "Every so often one of my wind chimes makes this strange noise. It completely changes the atmosphere when I hear it."

"I'm not sure what you mean, Amelia." Sarah asked looking genuinely concerned.

"It's as though there's a strange breeze, you know, that makes it sound different from the others. I don't like it. It makes me… uneasy."

"What do you think it means?"

"I'm inclined to believe that it's a bad omen of sorts. Evil spirits perhaps? Who knows."

"I thought you didn't believe in that supernatural mumbo-jumbo. You jumped down my throat when I tried to read your horoscope!" Sarah accused, sitting up on her knees. Amelia tapped her temples, ignoring the banshee on her sofa. She mumbled to herself, wrecking her brains trying to come up with some solution.

A few nights later, Amelia sat at her desk writing out important notes in a large leather bound journal. The elegant fountain pen scratched against the coarse paper, breaking the lonely silence of the house. She sighed and leaned back, her eyes heavy with fatigue. Amelia hated to admit it, but sometimes she found her line of work incredibly tedious, especially when she couldn't find a cure for one of her patients. Many nights were spent researching, experimenting and throwing jars at walls in frustration. She had often thought about quitting, to go off and find a new line of work but what would her clients do without her? Her mother would turn in her grave if she ever heard her thoughts.

She rose from her seat and trotted towards the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine.

A scream from outside stopped her mid sip. Amelia quickly sat the glass down and ran outside, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her neighbour threw her hands up to her face, gasping at a body in the middle of the road. Amelia drew in a breath and approached it, ignoring her other neighbours who came out to see what the commotion was. She crouched down, instantly recognizing the red, white and blue spandex. "Captain America," she breathed, watching him drift in and out of consciousness. He was covered in cuts and what appeared to be burn marks and yet he still clutched his shield in his hand. Amelia called for her stronger neighbours to help her bring him inside. They obliged, pulling Captain America onto his feet.

Once they had placed him onto Amelia's bed, she shooed them out and locked her front door after them. She didn't like the smell they left behind.

Amelia stared at the heaving man on her bed. He tried to sit up but Amelia gently pushed him back down. "Don't." She whispered, taking his shield and placing it on the floor. Amelia reached up to remove his mask, slightly hesitant. Captain America reached up and held her wrist before she could remove it. She looked into his eyes and there was a moment of understanding between them. He lowered his hand, closing his eyes as the protective mask peeled away.

Amelia's breath caught in her throat.

"Steve…" She cusped his cheek never feeling so worried in her life. Steve swallowed hard and forced a smile.

"Hi." He breathed. Amelia drew herself away from him, her stony demeanour returning. She rushed out and returned with an assortment of towels, jars, balms and a dish of warm water. Amelia stared at him.

"How does this thing come off?" She asked nodding towards the suit.

"Top part has to go over my head," He croaked. Amelia bit her lip. _How do I do this without hurting him?_ Steve slowly sat up and attempted to remove the upper section of his suit. He pushed his lips tightly together, suppressing his hisses. Amelia reached down and helped him, trying to ease his pain and quicken the process. He dropped it on the floor beside him, sweat breaking out on his forehead.

"I'm going to do your back first. Just… try and get comfortable." Amelia sat behind him and watched as he leaned forward, holding his stomach with his hand. She hated this. She hated when people were in pain. She dedicated her life to ridding people of their pain. It just wasn't right.

Gently Amelia wiped away the fine bits of gravel embedded into his back, cleaning away the fresh and dried blood. Steve stared dead ahead, trying his hardest not to think about anything. She applied a homemade antiseptic and placed a bandage over the larger wound. His shoulder was badly burned, his flesh raw and seeping. She grabbed a towel and dampened it, draping it over the burn. "You can lie back now."

Amelia tended to his torso in the same way, keeping a vigilant eye out for any signs of broken ribs or internal bleeding. _So far so good_. She then quickly removed his trousers - Steve was too tired to be embarrassed - and cleaned up the oozing gnash on his thigh. She stood up straight and cracked her back, tossing the bloodied towel out the door. Amelia grabbed a smaller one and dabbed the blood seeping from his lip. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek as she wiped the sweat from his brow. "I need you to rest." Amelia instructed as she pulled out the quilt from underneath him and gently draped it over his _almost _completely naked body.

"Amelia," he groaned, grabbing the bottom of her jumper. She leaned in towards him. "I don't - I can explain."

"I'm not asking you to, Steve. Sleep well." Amelia scooped up her utensils and glided out, turning the light off as she left. A small smile crept upon his features when he noticed how candid her worry was for him.

Amelia on the other hand grasped her forehead shakily, completely offended by tears threatening to fall.

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**Much love goes out to everyone who has read, reviewed and alerted/faved this story. Brofists for everyone! **

**xxx**


	4. IV

**Slight mature warning…?**

- CHAPTER IV -

* * *

_Steve lowered Amelia on to the bed, his large hands brushing over her bare flesh. She ran her hands through his blonde hair as he dipped down and nipped at her delicate neck. As his kisses fell lower, Amelia stretched her arms over her head, arching her back as he massaged the sides of her breasts, slowly rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. His name rumbled from the back of her throat, pushing him further down, his soft touch beckoning goosebumps on her skin. Steve stopped and looked up at her, watching her squirm. Amelia repeated his name, begging, pleading for him to continue. _

"_Steve…"_

Amelia's eyes shot open at the sound of her own voice. She quickly looked around - a part of her wondering where Steve had went to. She lay on the sofa in the living room, blanket kicked off onto the floor. She held her face in her hands trying to cool her blushing cheeks - What just happened? Amelia attempted to comprehend everything; the sickly feeling in her stomach, her dying arousal, her flushed cheeks. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her thighs and checked the clock on the mantel piece. _Six forty-five. _Quietly, she stalked into the kitchen and brewed herself a cup of coffee and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Over and over in her head she repeated 'it was just a dream, it meant nothing'. However, she couldn't shake the ever present desire just to curl up in those large arms -

"Fuck." She groaned, resting her forehead on the cool counter.

* * *

The staircase creaked under her feet. Her mug of coffee threatened to spill over in the grasp of her trembling hands. Standing just outside her room, she sighed and then poked her head in. Steve snored lightly, dark bruises blotching his jaw and what she could see of his arms and chest. Amelia leaned against the doorframe, sipping gently at her coffee, noticing how innocent he looked in his slumber.

She almost choked on her coffee.

Her lack of professionalism disgusted her. Steve was beaten within an inch of his life and here she was, dreaming about him ravaging her. She downed her coffee, hoping it burned like hell on the way down.

Steve stirred in his sleep drawing Amelia out of her self-punishing thoughts. His hand reached up and rubbed his eyes as he yawned. Amelia straightened up, slightly alarmed. "Good morning Steve." She called, acting as nonchalant as possible. He sat up and yawned again. "Still tired?"

"I just don't want to get up. I could sleep in your bed every night - It's really comfortable." Amelia raised her brows in acknowledgement. _Don't tempt me Steve._ She rotated her shoulder and cracked her neck, only then noticing the dull throbbing pain where the two connected.

"Well, next time you decide to crash land outside my house you can sleep on the sofa." Amelia sat her coffee on the beside table and sat on the very edge of the bed. Even though Steve scooted over to give her more room, she didn't move. Gently, she took Steve's arm in her hands and traced lightly over the faint pink scratches that had been deep wounds that night. "Amazing…" She breathed, getting lost in the maze of newly formed flesh. Steve cleared his throat dragging Amelia out of her trance. She locked eyes with him, her gaze intense as though she was trying to see beyond him. Steve's eyes darted around the room, trying to look at anything other than Amelia's empty grey ones. After an excruciating moment passed, Amelia blinked and stood up quietly, clasping her mug tightly. "There's sweats and shirts in that drawer, help yourself. Come downstairs when you're ready." She turned to him and let a smile tug on her thin lips. "And no, it's not a problem Steve. You're not imposing blah _blah_." Amelia waved her hands impatiently.

"Are you sure? Because I really don't want you to go to any more trouble for me."

Amelia wanted to tell him that he was the most troublesome thing in her life but she decided against it. "Steve," She started warningly. "I am going downstairs to make breakfast. Once you're ready, you will join me or so help me God I'll chain you that bed and force feed you."

Steve smiled sheepishly and nodded, swinging his legs over the side of the bed but keeping the quilt close to his chest. Amelia rolled her eyes and trotted down the stairs, leaving him to get changed in private.

* * *

The curtains were still drawn, keeping all the prying eyes of her neighbours' out. She knew that they were probably poking around her house, trying to catch a glimpse at an unmasked Captain America.

Amelia ordered him to relax on the sofa after he insisted that he should help out. Steve obliged, sitting with his hands resting on his lap and his posture as impeccable as ever. To occupy himself, he picked the blanket from the floor and folded it neatly, placing it on the spot beside him as Amelia rummaged through her cabinets and fridge in the kitchen. "What do you eat Steve?" She called, tossing an empty carton in the bin.

"Anything really. I'm not picky." A series of knocks at Amelia's front door jerked both their heads in the same direction. Amelia hopped off the counter, mumbling something under her breath. She commanded Steve to hide in the kitchen as she approached the door. Pulling back the curtain, she spotted her neighbour - Rose something or other - waiting rather excitedly at her step with a basket under her arm. Rose spotted Amelia through the window and waved. Amelia drew her brows together in frustration and opened the door slightly.

"Hi! Amelia! How are you?" The herbalist grimaced at the sickeningly sweet tune of her neighbour. It almost induced diabetes.

"Fine." Rose seemed to have expected a more syllabic response and hesitated before speaking again.

"Here's a basket of stuff I baked this morning!" Amelia opened the door fully and accepted the basket. Rose tried to squeeze her way past Amelia who had no intentions of letting her do so. "Can I come in?"

"No. Goodbye." She quickly shut the door in her face and bolted it, ignoring the profanities from the other side. "Looks like breakfast is sorted Steve." She called, opening the basket and admiring all the little muffins and freshly baked breads.

The two of them sat at the table enjoying the breakfast supplied by Rose. Amelia had laid out an assortment of jams, tea and coffee to accompany the baked goods. Amelia picked her way through a walnut muffin and Steve thoroughly enjoyed his bread with apricot jam. "Do your neighbours often bake you things?" He asked.

* * *

Amelia snorted. "Not at all. I hardly ever see them. In fact, I probably wouldn't even recognise them in the supermarket." She poured herself a fresh coffee and offered Steve some. "They don't really care much for me - the feeling is mutual, of course." She paused. "If it weren't for you, Sarah and my rather small clientele, I wouldn't have any visitors." Amelia rubbed her jaw line as she stirred her coffee. "I don't mind though. I'd rather have enough good friends to count on one hand than hundreds of false ones."

Steve nodded. "But how do you know you can trust your 'good friends'?"

"I don't. I live under the assumption that we have a mutual trust in each other." She shrugged and smiled. "You seem concerned."

"A little. I kind of worry about you." He confessed, dropping his gaze into his mug.

"I wish you wouldn't. I'm sure you have enough on your plate for you to start worrying about me. Like the safety of the world for example."

Steve opened his mouth to object but instead bit it back. "Do you want to go out sometime?" He blurted, his face reddening at his outburst.

"Excuse me?"

"Like, go and get food and maybe go bowling or something."

"Bowling." She paused. "Really?"

"Yeah…" He knew it sounded stupid. He wanted to take it all back. Every stupid word. He wished the ground would hurry and swallow him up so he wouldn't have to be the focus of Amelia's really _really _condescending glare.

Amelia smiled. Probably one of the most genuine smiles that had ever graced her features and ran a hand through her hair. "Sure. Bowling. Give me a date and a time and I'll see if I'm free Mr. Rodgers."

* * *

Amelia stood at the window watching the rain bombard the ground below. Tiny rivers ran alongside the cars as they hurtled through the onslaught, disappearing as quickly as they emerged from the haze of raindrops. She pressed her cheek against the cool glass, allowing the condensation to move in like a fog around her vision. The wind chimes sang at her from outside, trying to lure her out into the storm. A nauseating feeling arose from the pit of her stomach and she shut the curtains quickly, blocking out the outside world for a few precious hours.

She crouched by the dying fire and tossed a log in, hoping to bring it back from the brink. It crackled back to life, spitting out onto the rug and leaving an assortment of small scorch marks. Before they could light on the aged fabric, Amelia stomped them out, preventing any serious damage.

Once she was sure the fire had settled, she retreated to her desk and curled up on her plush desk chair, fiddling quietly with the skull, tipping out all the pens and clasping it in her two hands. "You're lucky you're dead, Frederick. You don't have any of this complex, social stuff to deal with anymore." She tossed the skull and caught it, sighing. "What's it like in Hell, anyway?" Amelia cackled and set Frederick back down and then buried her head in between her knees. The telephone beside her screeched to life and a moment passed before Amelia decided to answer it.

"Hello?" She breathed, raking her nails across her scalp to subdue her annoyance.

"_Hey Amelia, it's Steve. How's things?" _

"Can't complain - well I could try but I'd rather not."

Steve laughed. _"That's good."_

"So what did you need, Steve? Are you having second thoughts about tonight?" Amelia started to assemble the pens back into Frederick's socket.

"_No, actually. Just checking to make sure everything's alright. We haven't spoken in a while and you know I worr-" _

"Yes, yes. I know you worry about me." She paused. "Steve, it's only been three days."

"_Okay. Yeah sure. Three days. Seems longer." _

"It cannot be that boring saving the world."

"_I haven't been - it's been really quiet. Or haven't you noticed?"_

"Haven't _you _noticed I don't pay much attention to outside affairs?" Amelia propped her feet up onto the desk. "So what do you do when you aren't working for me or helping humanity?"

"_Not much." _

"Come now Steve. I'm curious. Any recreational activities I should know about before I even consider you to be a potential mate? I don't want tonight to be a waste of my time, after all."

"_Amelia!" _He whined. Amelia bit back a laugh.

"A guy as nice as you is bound to have dirty secrets. No one's that perfect." Steve stuttered on the other end. She couldn't help her laugh. "Steve, I'm only kidding with you. You're so easy to wind up." Amelia was sure she heard a scoff. "So, what time can I expect you to make an appearance at then?"

"_Around seven."_

"Hey, we can take my car. No offence, but I don't fancy going out on your bike in that weather."

"_Sure. I was going to get us a taxi anyway -" _

"I don't trust taxi drivers. Nor do I like the idea of sitting in the back of a vomit-stained cab." Amelia interjected quickly. Steve chuckled.

"_Okay, we'll take your car."_

"Good. I'll see you at seven then." Amelia killed the line and rubbed her thumb along her lips. She was troubled. She couldn't understand if she was feeling apprehension or excitement. She could just as easily redial and tell him she wouldn't be able to make it - she couldn't do that. The sound of his disappointment would kill her.

She wasn't sure if she regretted employing him or relished in the decision.

* * *

**I'm really sorry for the lateness of this update, but LIFE sort of went a bit nuts for a while. Don't worry, I've got it in a headlock now so expect more frequent updates. **

**ALSO. Seen Batman. Not as good as Avengers but BANE. Amg feels ;_;**

**Merci! xxx**


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